


Love Again (Timeline 1)

by Melanie_b



Series: A Series of Happy Endings [4]
Category: Kabby fandom, The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst, Betrayal, Building A New Life, Divorce, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Heartache, Running Away, Unrequited Love, everybody's sad, nursing a broken heart
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:02:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25708645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melanie_b/pseuds/Melanie_b
Summary: In The Times That Weren’t Ours five of the six timelines ended with Kane and Abby not getting together for various reasons. However, I love all of the timelines so I decided to write the happy endings to those timelines and post them separately. This is the happy ending to Timeline 1, which you can read about in chapters 1, 7, 13, 18, 23, 26, 28 & 30 of The Times That Weren’t Ours.This story substitutes ch 30 as opposed to continuing from it. It's basically an alternative ending to timeline 1, because I feel it ended happily even if it Kabby weren't together. In this story, which continues on from ch 28, Kabby do get together.I realize that it's basically an alternative ending to an alternative timeline in an alternative universe, but bear with me.
Relationships: Abby Griffin & Clarke Griffin, Abby Griffin & Jake Griffin, Abby Griffin & Marcus Kane, Abby Griffin/Marcus Kane, Callie Cartwig & Abby Griffin, Callie Cartwig/Marcus Kane, Clarke Griffin & Marcus Kane
Series: A Series of Happy Endings [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1679143
Comments: 19
Kudos: 31





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Times That Weren’t Ours (And One Time That Was)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21182513) by [Melanie_b](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melanie_b/pseuds/Melanie_b). 



The morning was still warm for mid-September, warm enough to sit in the garden for a couple of hours with a book and a coffee once she’d seen Clarke off on the school bus that stopped at the gate at the bottom of their garden. Clarke had started at the local school at the beginning of the fall term, and had quickly informed Abby that she would be taking the school bus with her friends, and would not be requiring Abby’s services as a driver. 

If she was honest with herself, she missed the routine of taking Clarke to school. Now that she wasn’t working her days were long and empty, but her daughter’s sense of independence and adventure was a constant joy to her, so she dutifully waved Clarke off every morning. The ritual of drinking her coffee and reading in the garden wouldn’t be practical for much longer, once the colder weather set in, so she was going to make the most of it while she could. 

Today marked five months exactly since she’d left New York. Five months since she and Jake had decided their marriage was too broken to be fixed. Five months since she’d lost everyone dear to her, and she’d fled to Madison, Connecticut, on the pretext of taking care of her convalescent mom, but in truth to nurse a heart so broken she thought she’d never be whole again. 

She’d stayed on even when her mom had left for a six week cruise around the Caribbean a couple of weeks ago. Coming back to her roots had been good for her. She’d needed the change, and the calmer, less frenetic lifestyle of rural Connecticut had allowed her to slowly regenerate. Clarke was thriving after a summer of playing in the fields and streams with the neighborhood kids, her arms and legs tanned and scratched in a way they had never been in the metropolis. She’d adapted quickly, and for that Abby was grateful. Her daughter was resilient. 

She sipped her coffee, and was about to start her book when her phone pinged with a message.  _ Jake,  _ confirming he’d be there at five to pick Clarke up for the weekend. Abby smiled. Clarke would be excited, it was the second time she was going to spend the whole weekend with her dad. They were taking advantage of the last of the warm weather to go camping, and Clarke had been beside herself with excitement that morning. Abby was pleased that one good thing had come of all this mess. Clarke had her dad back, even though she only saw him at weekends, but the time they spent together was quality time and their relationship was stronger than ever. 

She didn’t let herself think about the other two bridges she still needed to repair. She’d get there. She had been in touch with Callie, at least, and while Abby still had some explaining to do, their friendship was intact. It just needed some nurturing, but she and Callie had been friends for many years now and Abby was hopeful their friendship would survive this. Callie was a little confused, because she hadn’t  _ known,  _ but she wasn’t angry or hurt. 

Marcus, on the other hand, was a different matter. He  _ had  _ known, and the pain had been paralyzing. Irrational, selfish, but paralyzing all the same. Distance and distraction were the key, the proverbial “out of sight, out of mind.” But she couldn’t deny that at least half the tears she’d shed over the last five months were for him. More maybe, because she’d already mourned her marriage before Jake had come back to the ground. With Jake she’d had closure; they’d come to the end of their journey together, and were now embarking on a new one, as separated parents to Clarke. It hadn’t been easy, but they’d found a balance, and it was working. 

With Marcus she’d had no closure. She’d just left without speaking to him again. 

Abby had never believed it was possible to love two men at the same time, and would certainly never have dreamed of cheating on Jake. But the truth was, Marcus had slowly stolen her heart, with his soft eyes and sweet smile and gentle friendship. When Jake had told her, the previous November, that he was quitting his job on Alpha to try and rebuild their marriage, Abby was torn. 

Marcus had taken the decision out of her hands. He hadn’t wanted to be instrumental in the breakdown of her marriage, and had told her that he was still getting over a broken heart and wasn’t ready for a new relationship. Especially with someone who was still married, and confused about what she wanted. As painful as it was to hear it, Abby understood, and he’d patiently talked her through her feelings, encouraging her to work at her marriage and promising to remain friends.

Her marriage had ended one night in late April, with a final massive blow out followed by hours of talking and crying and goodbyes. Jake had left for good around eleven pm, and Abby had cried until she was nearly sick, and then from the bathroom floor, weak and shaking and exhausted, she’d called Callie, her trusted friend who was  _ always  _ there for her. She was surprised, then, when the call went to voicemail, and she’d left a message: “Jake’s gone. It’s over. Call me when you can.”

Callie hadn’t returned her call, and Abby figured she must have had a rare early night, or maybe her friend had got lucky, although as far as Abby knew she wasn’t seeing anyone at the moment. She sent a quick text to Marcus: “Are you awake? I could do with a chat if you are.” Then she’d pulled herself up off the bathroom floor and made her way to bed, hoping to sleep but in reality just to lie in the darkness and replay the events of the evening, wishing that at least one of her two friends would call her back. She’d finally fallen into a deep sleep around three am and had been awoken by a text at six. It was from Marcus, and her heart lifted when she saw his name on her screen. “I’m so sorry about Jake. I’m starting work now but I’ll call you when I’m on my break. Stay strong.”

She reread the message a couple of times, but the warm glow of comfort slowly gave way to something cold and unpleasant. How had he known about Jake leaving? She hadn’t mentioned Jake in her text to Marcus, only in her voicemail to Callie. There was only one explanation, and it was too painful to even think about. 

Abby had never considered herself a jealous person; she’d never been jealous of anyone in her life and the feeling was almost alien to her, but there was no other way to describe the sick feeling in her stomach and the physical pain in her heart that overwhelmed her when she thought about Marcus and Callie together. On that night, of all nights, when her marriage had ended and she’d needed their friendship more than ever.

She’d mustered the energy to take Clarke to school, and then she spent the rest of the morning crying in bed, alternating between self-pity at what she perceived as their betrayal, and self-loathing at her selfishness. She loved them both, and she should be ecstatic about this turn of events, and without a doubt she was a truly awful friend that she couldn’t but dammit it  _ hurt.  _

She wallowed in bed until lunchtime, by which time Callie was frantically calling her every ten minutes, interspersed with panicky text messages. When she finally answered, she’d already made the decision to come to her mom’s for a few weeks. The time and distance would help her to take control of her emotions and crush the hideous green-eyed monster that was possessing her. She was determined to be happy for them, but she just needed a little time. She told Callie what had happened with Jake and that she was going to Connecticut for a while, and would be in touch. 

And so she’d packed her bags, picked Clarke up from school, and left. 

That had been five months ago, and the raging jealousy had since morphed into a dull ache. She missed them both, but her life here was safe, comfortable, back among the familiar places and people she’d grown up with. She felt like she was living in a bubble, protected from the heartache adulthood had brought her. Every now and then she allowed herself to remember him, and the tell tale lump would form in her throat and she would swallow and blink fiercely, determined not to let the sadness reach her eyes. She refused to cry any more tears for him. 

She picked up the phone and answered Jake, then gulped down the rest of her coffee, forcing herself to focus on more practical matters. She had to take her car to the mechanic that morning. 

An hour later she pulled into the yard of Sinclair & Sons and parked next to a battered old pick-up. Getting out of the car, she spotted Jacapo, the son, bent over the open hood of a gleaming Merc that put her little run-around to shame. 

“Abby!” His face lit up in a smile as he straightened up. He was an incredibly sweet guy who‘d been in the year below her at high school, and he and his wife had become the closest thing she could call friends here in Madison. Their daughter was the same age as Clarke and the children had often played together during the summer. “How are you?”

“I’m great, thank you. How’s Carla?” Jacapo’s wife was expecting their second child and was well into her third trimester, with all its trials and ailments. 

“A sweaty, bloated lump. Her words, not mine.” He grinned and Abby laughed. They had a relaxed, easy marriage that made Abby envious, and a little nostalgic for the time she and Jake had been like that. 

“I’ll pop by and say hello on my walk back. I have to go past your house.”

“She’ll love that. Do you want to give Ricky the keys to your car? He’ll bring it into the workshop.”

“Sure,” she said with a little inward smile. Ricky was a twenty-three year old engineering student who worked part time as a mechanic to help pay for his studies. He was ridiculously good looking, with big dark eyes and chiseled features and a cockiness that turned Abby into a flustered mess. He also seemed to have a soft spot for her, despite the five-year age difference. He’d asked her out several times and she’d finally accepted, making it clear she wasn’t looking for anything serious, which seemed to suit him fine. He was cute and sexy and fun to be with, but her heart wasn’t really ready for anything more. In fact the last time she’d seen him, at a concert of a local band in one of the town’s more popular bars, she’d had a little too much to drink and had gotten a little emotional, and Ricky had taken her home and held her while she’d sobbed her heart out in his muscly arms.

The following day she’d sent him an “Omg I’m mortified but thank you” text, to which he’d responded with a simple “Anytime, beautiful.” That had been two weeks ago, and she hadn’t heard from him since. She’d wondered if he was avoiding her, although part of her suspected he was giving her space. She was right, because he was as pleased as ever to see her, and if anything his eyes were even softer when he smiled down at her. 

“Abby! How are you doing?”

She smiled, still a little embarrassed. “Better, thanks. And sorry again. About, you know.”

“Stop apologizing. It happens to all of us at some point.”

“I can’t imagine you blubbering in someone’s arms,” she retorted.

“You’d be surprised,” he said darkly, but then his face brightened. “Hey, if I told you you had beautiful eyes, would you hold it against me?”

She rolled her eyes. The pick-up line was so corny,  _ and  _ he’d got it wrong. “I think it’s ‘If I told you you had a beautiful  _ body _ , would you hold it against me?’” she corrected him. 

He smirked. “You hitting on me, Abby?”

She glared at him, trying not to laugh. “No! I’m just correcting you! You got the line wrong.” 

He chuckled good naturedly. “Listen, the band’s playing again tomorrow night. Why don’t you come along again? It could be fun.”

“Oh… I don’t know.” It was probably better if she stayed away from emotional music and alcohol. They weren’t a good mix for her.

“Not a date,” he reassured her. “Just two friends enjoying some music and a drink together.”

She nodded slowly. Why not? It couldn’t hurt, and if he’d seen her at her absolute lowest and still wanted to spend time with her, he must be a good guy. “Okay. Clarke’s away with Jake, so I might as well take advantage.”

His face lit up. “Great! I’ll pick you up at about nine, if you like?”

“Oh no, it’s fine, I can drive myself.” That way she’d also stay off the alcohol. 

“Abby, you won’t have a car. It won’t be ready till Monday.” 

_ Damn.  _ “You’re right.” She rolled her eyes. “Nine is perfect.”

“Okay, it’s a date.” 

“Not a date,” she repeated, putting the keys into his hand. 

He got into her car and lowered the window. “Oh, and bring tissues this time. I don’t want to ruin another T-shirt.” He winked and blew her a kiss as he started the car and drove it into the workshop, leaving her laughing and shaking her head and feeling just a little bit flustered. 

She spent a couple of hours with Carla Sinclair, and by the time she got home she was feeling uplifted. Carla and Jacapo were dear friends, and she had a non-date for tomorrow night, which boosted her self-esteem. For the first time since she’d left New York, she began to feel like she had a life here in Madison, and was no longer just existing in some grief-filled bubble. She’d done the right thing, she thought, not moving back to New York. She decided that first thing on Monday morning, she’d start looking for a job, and then her life really would be here, in every sense. 

Clarke arrived home from school buzzing with excitement about the camping trip, although she was still having difficulty grasping why her mom couldn’t come along too. 

“Don’t you like camping?” she asked, her big blue eyes filled with sadness. 

“You know I do, but this is your time to spend with Daddy by yourself. You know Daddy and I aren’t married anymore,” - this wasn’t strictly true, the divorce hadn’t yet come through, but that was a technicality Clarke didn’t need to know - “so we won’t be doing things together anymore. But it just means that you get to do fun things with me, and fun things with Daddy. So it’s double the fun!”

Clarke accepted this, although she clearly wasn’t convinced, and there were a few tears when she got in the car. Seeing the stricken expression on Jake’s face, Abby reassured him. “It’s not that she doesn’t want to go with you,” she explained. “It’s just that she doesn’t understand why I can’t come too. She thinks I don’t want to be with her.”

“So why don’t you come? I’m sure we can get along for a day or two.” 

“You know that’s not going to work, Jake. And it will just be giving her a false sense of security, that everything is back to normal.”

“Yeah. I guess you’re right.”

“And besides, I have stuff to do this weekend.” She’d been planning on sorting out the spare bedroom so that she could surprise Clarke with her own room, instead of sharing with Abby, but Jake’s eyes immediately narrowed. 

“Are you seeing somebody?” he asked gruffly. 

“Just a friend tomorrow,” she said, thinking of Ricky with a smile. “But it’s none of your business if I am.”

“It is my business if there’s another man in my daughter’s life. All I’m asking is that you be honest with me.”

She nodded. She could understand that. It wasn’t going to be easy for either of them when the other moved on, and she knew from her experience with Callie and Marcus how much it hurt to be kept in the dark. “Of course. You’re right. But you have to do the same too.” It actually terrified her to think that one day there would be another woman who Clarke saw as a mother-figure, and it had to be the same for Jake too. 

“Of course.” He got in the car and Abby leaned in to give Clarke a last hug and kiss, and then he pulled away and Abby waved until they were out of sight. 

She spent a couple of hours sorting out the spare room, taking boxes to the basement and binning stuff she didn’t think her mom would miss. At nine o’clock she had a shower and made herself a salad, and she was just settling down to watch an episode of her new favorite show when the doorbell rang. She was tempted to ignore it, because she wasn’t expecting anyone and besides, it was late, and she was alone in the house. When it rang again, and again, she had no choice but to pause Netflix and drag herself reluctantly off the couch. 

She opened the door, and her heart nearly stopped as she looked into the dark brown eyes of Marcus Kane. 

  
  
  



	2. Chapter 2

“Marcus.” She could barely get the word out, her throat was suddenly so tight. She felt all her efforts to forget him over the last five months dissolving without a trace, and her feelings for him came rushing back like a tidal wave. “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to see you,” he said. “We need to talk.”

The pleading look in his eyes tugged at her heart, and she nodded. “Okay. Come in.” She opened the door further and he stepped inside. Her heart was racing and nerves fluttered in her stomach as she wondered what he wanted to talk about. 

She led him into the living room and gestured for him to sit. He didn’t, though, just stood awkwardly in the middle of the room. She took her seat on the couch and looked up at him. He was wearing jeans and a pale blue shirt and the leather jacket he’d been wearing in Central Park that day Clarke had broken her arm, nearly a year ago. His hair was perfectly tousled and he had a great tan. He looked good, and her tummy did a little depressed flip. Would her feelings for him ever go away? How could it still be this painful to see him? Tears pricked at her eyes, and she blinked them away furiously.

He took his jacket off and draped it over the back of the armchair, then ran his hand through his hair nervously. “You look well,” he began with a soft smile. “It’s good to see you again.” 

“You too,” she said, her voice was barely more than a whisper. She didn’t trust herself to say anymore.

“I’ve been worried about you,” he said. “I don’t understand why you don’t want to talk to me anymore. Every time I called you brushed me off, or just passed me to Clarke to say hi. And then you just stopped answering completely.”

She closed her eyes briefly. “I’m sorry. I just needed some space.”

He lifted wounded eyes to her. “From me?”

She felt a flash of anger. He had a nerve, doing what he did and then coming here and being hurt that she’d needed to distance herself from him. He  _ knew  _ how she felt about him, and all she’d ever expected was honesty. He hadn’t even been able to give her that. 

“Yes, Marcus,” she said tiredly. “From you. And Callie.”

His mouth fell open and he stared at her for a moment, clearly piecing together the pieces of the puzzle. He sat down heavily in the chair opposite her and rubbed his face with his hands. “So you knew?”

“Yes. I never mentioned Jake in my message to you that night, so the only way you could have known is if you were with Callie. Between midnight and six am. It wasn’t difficult to put two and two together.”

He shook his head. “So you were mad at me because I slept with Callie? You were still with Jake, Abby.”

“Marcus…” He didn’t get it. “I don’t even know where to begin answering that.” She stood up and went to the kitchen, and he followed her, watching from the doorway as she opened the fridge and poured herself a glass of the Merlot she’d opened the previous evening. Her hand was shaking so much that she nearly spilled it everywhere. She took a deep breath, trying to still her nerves. “Do you want one?” she asked, but he shook his head. She took a sip of the rich red liquid and swallowed, waiting for its calming effect to reach every part of her body. Putting the wineglass on the counter, she turned to face him. “Okay,” she began, trying to keep her voice even despite the turmoil inside her. “First of all, I’m not mad at you. I have no right to be mad. It’s none of my business. I know that. But I’d have appreciated a bit of honesty. I’ve always been honest with you, Marcus.”

He gave a reluctant nod and lowered his gaze. “I know.”

“You knew how I felt about you, I told you. But you advised me to try to save my marriage. And you were right,” she went on as he opened his mouth to speak. “I did need to try. But it’s not fair that you throw at me that because I was saving my marriage I’m not allowed to feel anything about you - you - sleeping with my best friend.” She struggled to say the words, and her voice broke on them. Tears welled in her eyes. “That’s not fair,” she repeated in a whisper, as a tear slid down her cheek. 

He didn’t say anything, but his eyes were beginning to fill with regret. 

“That’s why I left. It was too painful for me to think of you together, but I knew I had no right. I was jealous, plain and simple. And jealousy is a terrible, terrible thing.” She stopped, remembering how sick she’d felt in the beginning. “It eats you up inside. It’s the first time in my life I’ve ever felt anything like that. I just wanted to get as far away as possible.” She reached for her wine again, and took a long gulp. 

“Oh God. I’m so sorry. I had no idea. I thought you came here to get over Jake.” He stopped, unsure how to go on, and she took advantage to pour herself some more wine. “But what happened between Callie and me was a mistake, Abby. It only happened a few times and should never have happened at all –“ He swallowed. “I hurt her too,” he said, his face distraught. 

“You did?” In all her selfish envy she’d never considered her friend might also have been hurt.

“She realised pretty quickly my heart wasn’t in it. I should have ended it sooner.”

“Oh God. Poor Callie.” She frowned into her wine glass. 

“Abby, I really thought you and Jake were going to be okay. I convinced myself your feelings for me were nothing more than loneliness, and needing someone to “save”, like we talked about. I never imagined you would be so hurt… “ His face was pained and she knew why. He’d never wanted to be the cause of her marriage breaking up. He’d been on the receiving end of that kind of heartache. She’d respected that about him, but it had only made her love him even more. 

She shook her head. “Unfortunately they were actual real feelings. That’s why I needed to give myself time and space to get over you.”

He stared at her bleakly. “And did you?”

“Did I what?” She was beginning to feel light headed, and it wasn’t just the wine. She put the glass down. 

“Did you get over me?” 

Her throat tightened at his words. What was he asking? She wanted to lie and tell him yes, she was over him, that the fact that he was standing in her kitchen looking at her like that was having no effect on her whatsoever. She let out a long sigh. “No.”

A flutter of hope crossed his face. “Do you think you could  _ stop  _ trying to get over me?”

“Why would I want to do that?” she asked, her heart pounding. She was struggling to meet his eyes because the intensity she saw in their dark depths took her breath away. 

“Because I’m miserable as hell without you. I miss you so much.” 

She closed her eyes, and her barriers fell. “I’ve missed you too,” she whispered, and in two strides he closed the space between them and took her in his arms. His warmth and scent were intoxicating, and she leaned into him, breathing him in, feeling her muscles relax in response to him. 

“I love you,” he said softly, his breath warm on her ear, his arms around her like she was the most precious thing in the world. “I really tried to friendzone you, but I failed. Badly.”

“Oh Marcus.” She couldn’t help smiling even as tears pricked at her eyes. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, and then her temple and finally his lips were on hers in a kiss that was so sweet it shocked her. She melted into the softness of him, his mouth on hers, his solid warmth beneath her hands, and all the pent up hurt and longing that had welled up behind her eyelids suddenly overflowed and spilled down her cheeks. When he felt their wetness he broke the kiss, and his eyes creased with confusion.

“Oh. Hey. That’s not the reaction a man wants when he kisses the woman he loves for the first time.”

She smiled through her tears. “I’m sorry. I’m kind of overwhelmed.”

“Me too,” he murmured, drying her tears with his thumbs, but they just flowed faster, and he wrapped his arms around her, holding her like he never wanted to let her go. “I’m so sorry. I never wanted to hurt you, Abby. I was just a mess.”

“You did nothing wrong,” she mumbled against his shoulder. “You were free to do as you liked, it’s my problem that I was jealous. I was a mess too. I’m sorry I just cut you out of my life like that.”

“It was a difficult time for everybody.”

“Yeah. It was the best and worst time of my life.” She pulled away from him and pulled a tissue to dry her eyes and blow her nose. “Where are you staying? Here in Madison?” 

“Yes,” he said. “If you want me to. I have a week’s vacation.”

“Of course I want you to,” she said at once. “I think we should spend some time together, figure out where this is going. If it’s going to work or not. Because I’m warning you now, I don’t do long distance relationships well. Ask Jake.”

He nodded, suddenly looking subdued, and she wondered if he’d been thinking that too. “Yeah. I know.”

“Do you have somewhere to stay? If not you can stay here.”

“Um, well, I’ve booked into that new hotel off the highway. I didn’t want to be presumptuous. I’ll stay there tonight. All my stuff is there already.” He stroked her cheek. “And I don’t want to rush things. I want you to be sure this is what you want.”

“Okay.” She couldn’t disagree with that, and she was touched by his thoughtfulness. It was a lot to take on board.

“I’d like to take you out for the day tomorrow. You know, pick you up in the morning, and spend the whole day with you. Just you, me and Clarke. Is that okay?”

“Oh, Clarke’s not here. She’s camping with Jake.”

“Oh.” He looked disappointed, which warmed her heart immeasurably. He really adored Clarke. “Then I guess it’s just you and me.”

“That sounds perfect.”

He pulled her to him again. “I’ll pick you up at ten, okay?”

“Okay.” She smiled. “Where are we going?” She was curious what he had planned. 

“It’s a surprise,” he said with a smile. “But I mean, don’t raise your expectations too much. As much as I’d love to fly you to Paris by private jet for the weekend, my salary won’t quite stretch to that.”

She chuckled, wrapping her arms around him. “That’s okay. I heard Paris is rainy this time of year.”

He grinned and pulled her in to one last, slow kiss that left them both breathless and tingling with desire. “I should go,” he murmured. “Before we get carried away. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He kissed her again. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” she said, and her heart skipped a beat at the happiness that crossed his face. 

He opened the door and she watched him walk down the path and get into his car with a last wave in her direction. She wrapped her arms around her body to protect herself from the cool night air, and watched until he was out of sight. 

She wondered vaguely why her cheeks were aching, and she realised with a jolt that it was the huge smile that was stretching her face from ear to ear. 


	3. Chapter 3

Marcus arrived promptly at ten am, and Abby was still applying the last touches of makeup when the doorbell rang. She wasn’t wearing a lot, and definitely hadn’t bothered with lipstick, because if she had any say in the matter it would be all kissed off in minutes, but she added a last flick of mascara and ran her brush through her hair before running downstairs to open the door. Her heart was pounding in her chest, and her mouth was suddenly dry. What if things were awkward? What if they didn’t know what to say to each other? What if his feelings had been nothing more than hurt and regret, and now in the cold light of day he realised that she wasn’t what he wanted after all? She’d become so conditioned to the idea that her feelings weren’t reciprocated that she couldn’t quite chase the seeds of doubt from her mind. 

Her insecurities subsided during the car ride up the coast, not because of the way he’d kissed her when she got into the car, or the way he held her hand as he drove, but because of the smile that didn’t leave his face for the whole journey. It was such an involuntary expression of happiness, only fading from his features to frown and tut at a speeding motorist, the police officer in him always on duty even when he was on vacation.

“So,” she said when they were happily ensconced in a cosy little restaurant overlooking the sparkling blue of Long Island Sound. “How’s Aria? She must be nearly two now.”

“She’s great,” he grinned. “I see her every other weekend for the whole of Saturday. Do you want to see some photos?”

Abby nodded, and for the next five minutes they flicked through the photos on his phone. There were so many of the little girl playing, running, and laughing, and several of her with Marcus, in one reading a book, in another playing with a fire truck, and yet another of the child asleep on his shoulder, Marcus’s arms holding her tightly, his expression one of such unadulterated happiness that a lump rose in her throat. 

“This one’s beautiful,” she said, taking the phone to look at it more closely. “You should print it and get it framed. It’s - it’s a work of art.” 

“Thank you. It’s my favorite too,” he said, his eyes misting slightly. He took the phone back from her. “Oh, and there’s been a development. Maria’s ex - the one that she left me for to go back to - is no longer in the picture, and Maria asked me if it would be okay if Aria called me Daddy.”

“That’s great!” She was so pleased for him. “And does she?”

“Well - no. She’s not really talking a lot, and she’s decided she likes the name Cuss better. You know, from Marcus.” 

“Oh! That’s unfortunate,” she said with a grimace. “Bless her! I’m sure she’ll click on.” 

“Yeah,” he chuckled. “It’s okay though. I’m just glad that Maria wants me to be a part of her life.”

She squeezed his hand on the table between them. “It’s fantastic. I’m happy for you.” And she was. It was everything he’d wanted; to be able to be a father to his little girl, who he hadn’t seen for the first fourteen months of her life. He was born to be a dad, he was sweet and patient and funny, with a way of getting down to kids’ level in a way many adults found difficult. Nevertheless, she couldn’t help feeling a needling uncertainty. Maria had broken his heart once, and now that they were on good terms again, she couldn’t help wondering how big a chance there was that he would fall for her again. The thought caused panic to bubble inside her; she couldn’t risk getting _her_ heart broken again, after everything she’d been through. She managed to quell the panic but her guard had come up a little. She definitely wasn’t going to rush into anything until she was sure how he felt - how they both felt. There was too much at stake here. 

Instinctively, she pulled her hand away from his, luckily just as their food arrived so the gesture didn’t seem particularly out of place. His face lit up when he saw the plates, and her fears were immediately allayed; he was the picture of happiness, a man about to enjoy a plate of good food in good company, without a care in the world. Or rather, nothing that was going to stop him enjoying the moment. The thought put a smile on her face and eased her heart a little. 

She ate all of her grilled chicken salad, which was probably the first time she’d finished everything on her plate since that dreaded night Jake had left and her world had been turned upside down. As they ate, she told him about her life in Madison; how Clarke was doing at school. and the volunteer work she’d been doing teaching first aid courses. When they’d finished by dual accord they skipped desert and ordered coffee, and he broached the subject of Jake.

“How are things?” he asked as he stirred his coffee.

Abby pursed her lips. “Getting better. It’s not easy. Especially because Clarke doesn’t understand why she can’t be with both of us at the same time. She thinks it’s something _she’s_ done wrong.”

“Oh. Poor kid. She’s old enough to see that things have changed, but not really understand why.”

“Yeah. Although she was used to being alone with me, of course, because Jake was away.” She thought for a moment, gazing out of the window at the sea. “She doesn’t understand why now that Jake is home, she either has to be with him or with me.”

“You haven’t considered spending some time together for her sake?”

“No. I don’t want to give her false hope. I’ll see how it goes.”

Marcus nodded. “She may just need time.” He stopped, his face suddenly bleak. “You know… I’ve really missed her. When you left, it was like Maria taking Aria away from me all over again.” He shook his head. “I thought there must be something really wrong with me, that nobody wanted me in their kid’s life.”

His words made guilt twist like a knife in her heart, and she closed her eyes to dam the tears that had rushed there. She’d been so selfish, all she’d been thinking about was her own pain, but the truth was she’d hurt him in an unforgivable way too. She’d been the one to lift him up, to reassure him that he’d be a great dad, and that he didn’t deserve to not be in his daughter’s life, and then she’d taken Clarke away from him too, with no explanation. “I’m so sorry,” she said in a small voice, barely able to look at him. “I can’t believe I was so selfish.”

He reached for her hand. “No, I’m sorry,” he said at once. “I shouldn’t have said that. You did what you needed to do. It was my fault you left in the first place.”

She took a deep breath. God, it was all such a mess. It was as if sadness was exponential; the more hurt and sadness you had inside you, the more you hurt other people, like a ripple effect caused by a stone thrown into a pond. The bigger the stone, the bigger the ripple. “She missed you too,” she said, in a vague attempt to make amends. “She kept asking about you for ages.”

“Yeah?” His face lifted and his shoulders relaxed, but his obvious joy at hearing that just made the knife twist even deeper inside her. 

“Yes,” she said, forcing a smile onto her face. Wallowing in guilt wasn’t going to help either of them. The important thing was to apologise for mistakes made and move on, if they wanted to make this work. Clinging on to past regrets achieved nothing. “She has a whole bunch of drawings she did for you. I pretended I had sent them to you, so when we get home I’ll give them to you, and tomorrow you can tell her you received them. Is that okay?”

“Of course,” he said. “I can’t wait to see them. I bet she’s improved even more, hasn’t she?”

Abby nodded. “Apparently she’s quite the little art teacher at school. And I think one of the drawings she did for you was like a lesson, to show you how to draw it too.”

“She’s amazing,” he said with a grin. “Even at her age, she knows that her talent should be shared. She’s not in the least bit possessive of it.”

“She has her faults, but she has a big heart,” said Abby.

“Of course she does. She’s your daughter.” His eyes were soft and twinkling again, with no trace of the former sadness. “Shall we go for a walk along the beach?”  
  


...............

It was a beautiful September day, the sky dotted with a few fluffy clouds, the sun warm enough to take their sweaters off as they strolled along the sand. The Sound was as calm as a millpond, with only tiny waves rippling the shore. Marcus picked up a flat pebble and skimmed it over the water, his face triumphant when it skipped six times before disappearing into the depths. Abby shook her head at his childlike glee.

“You know if Clarke was here she’d want you to teach her how to do that. And she wouldn’t give up until she’d whipped your ass.” 

He laughed, and put his arm around her shoulder. “I can’t wait to do that. When’s she coming home?”

“Tomorrow at six. But then she’ll have to have a bath and go straight to bed, I’m afraid. She has school on Monday.”

“Oh.” His face fell. “Can’t she stay home for one day?”

“I guess she can. I’m never going to get her into bed on time anyway.” She shielded her eyes with her hand as she looked out to sea. “Look how clearly you can see Long Island. I feel like I could touch it.”

They walked as far as the old lighthouse, which stood on a rocky outcrop a mile or so down the beach. It was locked, with a sign up saying it was open to visitors during the summer season. “I guess September 17th is no longer summer,” said Marcus with a roll of his eyes. “Did they move the equinox?”

“Only in Connecticut,” she quipped, sitting down on the sand and taking off her shoes. She checked her phone to see if there was a message from Jake - there was, with a photo of Clarke in the tent, which she showed to Marcus before typing a quick reply and putting her phone back in her bag. It was almost warm enough to sunbathe, and she lay back with her head on her rolled up sweater and wriggled her toes into the sand, her eyes closed as the sun warmed her face. That is, until a Marcus-shaped shadow fell over her, but before she could protest he had pressed his lips softly to hers, and with a smile she pulled him down, her lips parting eagerly to kiss him back. 

He kissed her slowly, lazily, playing with her bottom lip, his eyes open and watching her, and it was glorious; his mouth warm and wet, his tongue sliding deliciously against hers, making desire pool in her belly. After the months of longing, part of her brain could barely conceive of the fact that he was here, real and solid and as gorgeous as ever, and he was kissing her in a way that made her toes curl into the sand and tiny moans rise in her throat. 

When the kiss threatened to become too heated, he pulled away, leaving her gasping. “I don’t think we should get _too_ carried away here,” he grinned.

“Yeah,” she smiled, but she couldn’t help biting her lip as her eyes roamed his face, her mind already wandering to later that evening, when they would be at home and free to explore each other to their hearts’ content. 

Something was niggling at the back of her mind, though, and her eyes widened as the realisation dawned on her. “Oh, shoot!” she said, and he blinked in surprise. “I have a date tonight.”

“What?”

“A date, to go and watch a concert with the mechanic, Ricky. 

“Oh.” His face was impassive. “Are you still going to go?”

She chewed her lip. “Of course not, but I feel a bit mean cancelling this late in the day.”

“It’s not mean,” he said, his tone decisive. “Just tell him something came up.” He reached to pluck her phone from the top of her bag, and put it into her hands. “It’ll take two minutes.”

She felt a small thrill rush through her. He evidently did not want her to go at any cost, and the feeling of being so fiercely desired was intoxicating. “Wow,” she said, raising an eyebrow. “You’re hot when you’re assertive.”

She typed a quick message to Ricky - the truth, because he would understand - and then put her phone away. When she raised her eyes to his face again his expression had completely changed, his distress clearly visible on his previously unreadable countenance. “What’s the matter?” 

“Don’t say I’m hot when I’m assertive.”

“You are. Very sexy police officer –“

“It’s not sexy, it’s pathetic. It’s because I’m scared of losing you again,” he said. “It’s shitty possessive behaviour, and I hate myself for it.”

“Marcus… it’s okay. I liked it, it’s cute.”

He closed his eyes briefly. “No, Abby. It’s wrong. A relationship can’t grow if it’s based on insecurities and fear of abandonment. You know that, I know you do.”

He was right, and she thought back to her moment of doubt in the restaurant. “I have a confession too,” she whispered. “In the restaurant I suddenly panicked that you were going to fall in love with Maria again. I nearly ran, to be honest.”

He turned disbelieving eyes to her. “You did? Why did you think that?”

“Because I know how heartbroken you were, and how long it took you to get over her, and now you’re friends again…”

“We’ve been on friendly terms for six months now, and the only person I’ve wanted all this time is you.” He touched her face, running his thumb down her cheek. “I wouldn’t have come here now if I wasn’t sure how I felt.”

She said nothing, reflecting on his words. He had a point, but he’d also admitted to her that he’d used Callie, although she was sure he hadn’t done it with malintent. He’d made a mistake, sought comfort in the wrong place, and hurt both women in the process. The ripple effect, she thought, and the idea depressed her. Could two emotionally damaged people who’d both been so hurt, not only by their past partners but, inadvertently, by each other, ever make each other happy? Or would the ripples caused by their sadness turn into waves that were too big to navigate? Would they end up lost in a storm of insecurities and doubts that would eventually rip their ship apart and destroy them both?

 _No._ She refused to believe that it wasn’t possible to find happiness again, that the hurt you’d suffered in the past could taint your future, condemning you forever to a life of loneliness and heartbreak. She had to believe that some good could come from all the pain. The problem was that they were both so fragile that their insecurities would play off each other, exactly as had happened now; he’d panicked at her having a date, and in her loneliness she’d been flattered at his possessiveness, mistaking it for love, when she knew deep down that true love was based on trust and freedom, not control and possession. She was reminded of a photograph of a butterfly her aunt had had hanging in her bathroom, with a phrase written under it that her child’s mind had had no difficulty understanding but whose meaning seemed to elude many adults. _If you love something, let it be free; if it comes back it will be yours forever, and if it doesn’t, it was never yours to begin with._

With this phrase in mind, she felt a renewed hope in her bones. They _could_ make it, but it was going to take a lot of strength, and patience and understanding. On both their parts. 

Marcus sat up, his forearms on his bent knees, looking out to sea. “Are we making a mistake, Abby? I don’t know what to do for the best anymore.” He sounded defeated, and her heart shattered a little, as she realised that his thoughts were going in the exact opposite direction to hers. She scrambled to sit up next to him. 

“No,” she said firmly, slipping an arm around his waist and resting her head on his shoulder. “I want to make this work. It might not be easy, but we’ll get there.”


End file.
